


Drifting Closer

by DownToTheSea



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: A Light Smattering of Angst, Dancing, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Canon, Shuttle Malfunction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 18:30:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17688638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DownToTheSea/pseuds/DownToTheSea
Summary: Paul and Hugh find a way to occupy themselves while stranded in a damaged shuttle.





	Drifting Closer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [missrainbowpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missrainbowpie/gifts).



> Happy, happy birthday to MissRainbowPie!! I really hope you enjoy this! <3 (This is my first time really dipping my toe into Star Trek fic, so I'm a little nervous XD)
> 
> Set before the Klingon war starts and before Paul and Hugh are married. I apologize for any continuity errors, I reread the ending of the Stamets/Culber comic to prepare for this, but I couldn't make sense of the timeline to save my life, so I just kind of went with what seemed right, haha.
> 
> Edit: Apparently they are not actually married by the time Discovery canon takes place, oops! XD

“How long has it been?” Hugh asked. It wasn't the first time he had voiced the question, but it was easy to lose track of time when one was drifting lost in the depths of space. There  _ was  _ a planet in this system, hovering closer to the system's sun and, in Paul's opinion, taunting them. It was class M, and if they could only make it there, they would be fine. But making it there was turning out to be a big problem.

“Four hours. We're down to dregs on auxiliary power.” Paul checked the shuttle console, with a foolish thought that it might show him something different this time.

“We were supposed to rendezvous with the outpost two hours ago, then,” Hugh said, keeping his voice calm; probably his bedside manner showing through. “They'll be looking for us.”

Paul looked at the frustratingly close, even more frustratingly far away sphere floating in the distance. “They're on the night side of the planet. By the time we're within scanning range, life support is gonna be down.”

“How much oxygen will we have left?”

He grimaced. “Not enough. But don’t worry, we’ll freeze to death before we suffocate.”

“I take it you didn't get the optimism memo when you joined Starfleet?” said Hugh, with a touch of fond, dry humor.

Paul's mouth twitched. “Aren’t doctors supposed to be realistic?”

Hugh slid out of the seat next to him, extending a hand. “Sure. Which is why I say we should keep on our feet, keep moving. Keep our circulation going.” There was a twinkle in his eye.

Paul stared disbelievingly at his hand. “Are you asking me to dance?”

Hugh only tilted his head with a small smile.

“I don’t really dance.” It had always seemed like such a pointless waste of time; he much preferred the solitude and focus of his work.

“Not even on the recommendation of your doctor?”

Looking into Hugh’s warm eyes, he thought that if he were ever going to dance with anyone, it would be with him. “I… I should really take another look at the engine,” he stammered despite himself.

“You’ve been taking a look at the engine for four hours,” Hugh pointed out. “You’re an astromycologist, not a computer. I think you could use a break.”

His resolve wavered. Maybe it  _ would  _ be easier to focus if he took a breather. “Alright, fine,” he finally agreed.

He slid his hand into Hugh’s and got up, following him to the back of the shuttle, where there was a small open space between the seats on either side. He snorted. “Circulation my ass.”

Hugh poked him lightly in the chest. “Are you disputing my medical opinion?” There was that gorgeous smile again. Paul felt his mouth open and close without sound, and winced at his total inability to flirt. But Hugh only laughed with another soft look.

How had he gotten so lucky?

Hugh’s hand tightened on his, and they leaned closer together, swaying to non-existent music in the darkness of the powerless shuttle. It was a slow dance, but as they twirled gently around the shuttle, Paul discovered that he was beginning to feel the rhythm.

“I could get used to this,” he admitted as they turned at the nose of the shuttle and danced back towards the rear.

“So could I, once you stop stepping on my toes.”

“Hey,” he protested. “I’m doing pretty well for a complete beginner.”

“That’s true,” Hugh said. “But I could give you more lessons, if you wanted. Say next week?”

Of course both of them knew that it was highly possible they would never make it out of this shuttle alive, and that making plans for the future was ridiculous. But for a moment, Paul allowed himself to follow Hugh’s example, and hope.

“I’d like that,” he said, smiling, before adding, “just so long as it doesn’t involve that dreadful Kasseelian opera of yours.”

 

The impromptu dance lesson was long since done, and the walls of the shuttle were now freezing to the touch. The two of them huddled in the middle of the floor, wrapped in thermal blankets from the shuttle’s storage compartment.

Earlier, Paul had had his PADD out, putting the finishing touches on a section of his research that he only hoped he could deliver to his lab back on the ship in person. But it was far too cold for that now. He was burrowed into Hugh’s side, face pillowed on his shoulder, arm locked around his waist to trap whatever heat the two of them had left. Hugh seemed equally lethargic, although so far they had been able to keep each other awake.

The creeping cold was already making its way to the middle of the shuttle. Paul wasn’t sure how much longer they had.

“Hugh?” he said after a while, voice muffled.

“Yes?” His voice was a little unsteady in the frigid air.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Paul mumbled into his shoulder. “Not glad you’re stuck in a dying shuttle with me, but…”

There was a short silence.

“I’m glad we’re together, too.”

Paul looked up then, meeting his gaze briefly before closing the distance between them and pressing their cold lips together. The kiss lasted only a moment before both of their communicators buzzed, the sound almost ridiculously loud in the silence that surrounded them.

They broke apart and stared at each other for a second, barely daring to believe they had both heard it and it was real, before they each went for their communicators, flicking them open with numb hands.

“Discovery to shuttlecraft one, do you copy?” met their ears, sounding sweeter than anything Paul had ever heard in his life.

“Yes,” he said dizzily, before full awareness and joy flooded over him. “Yes, we’re here!”

“Stand by for beam out.”

On total impulse, Paul threw his arms around Hugh and held on tight. The light of the transporter shimmered around them, carrying them away from the shuttle and back to the Discovery. Or, as Paul was just beginning to think of it,  _ home. _


End file.
